


Fucking Fabulous

by winchero



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blind Character, M/M, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 22:59:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1099577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winchero/pseuds/winchero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Lydia and Jackson's wedding day. Stiles sees Derek. But Derek doesn't see him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fucking Fabulous

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Weiner_dog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weiner_dog/gifts).



> This is dedicated to my great friend, Cora (find her here at: teenage-mutant-ninja-cora and on tumblr under the same name). Thank you so much honey for being the best beta a girl could have! Happy Christmas and I'm sorry this is so bad! Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy! You should also check out my tumblr (winchero) if you want to read some terrible poetry and check out the really great things I reblog.

They are all talking when Stiles sees him. Literally, they are all talking. Allison is fussing over Lydia's dress. Lydia is teasing Jackson about not being able to get it up tonight. Jackson is laughing, shockingly, apparently he's not allowed to be a dick on his wedding day. Scott is murmuring things to Danny. Danny is offering to help Jackson get ready, if you know what I mean.

It's not that Stiles isn't interested in the conversation. It's just, everyone is loud and his shirt is too tight (Lydia told him guys liked it tight and Danny agreed but also said Stiles wasn't his type, sooooo...), but, yeah, in reality, Stiles is just super bored.

His gaze drifts around the lavish party. With Jackson's money and Lydia's style, it was predicted to be the most amazing wedding of the year, and it didn't disappoint. He knows maybe a hundredth of the people here? And seeing as how there was about 600 people at the reception, that meant Stiles knew only the 5 people he was talking to. Damn, he needs to go out more.

He likes watching people. People are awesome and he knows it's a cliche, but they really are all seriously beautiful. Like, seriously, boys, girls, hell, anime characters, the occasional cat... They are all so fucking hot.

He's just sort of zoned out, watching people. He sees a girl who has Lydia's hair, maybe a cousin. A man who could be an uncle of Jackson's. A little boy in a Cinderella dress who looks simply darling. Stiles smiles when he sees a woman kissing her wife in the middle of the dance floor. People are amazing, they really are.

His eyes pause on a man propping up the wall at the back of the large room. He's wearing a simple black suit with an undone bowtie and his jaw is covered with dark stubble. His hair is midnight black and he's wearing black-out sunglasses. Weirdo.

Somehow their little circle has rotated during Stiles' people gazing and he has ended up standing next to Lydia. He used to kinda be in love with Lydia but he kinda realised that loving Lydia was a recipe for disaster (because he was maybe sorta kinda just a little bit totally gay), but she was a great friend. Not as great as Scott, but easily a close second. She shared his snarky humour and never judged him when he asked her opinion on his clothing choices. He decided she would probably be the least likely to judge him on the question he was desperate to ask.

"So, Lydia... Who's the man in black?" He asks, shuffling his feet, looking at the ground. Lydia turns to look at him with a grin on her face.

"Why do you want to know?" 

"Huh? Uh, no reason... Just didn't recognize him... Doesn't matter..." He mutters, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"Mmmhmm..." Lydia smirks. Stiles feels his ears growing red.

"Yeah, okay. Right. Well maybe I thought I'd go introduce myself." He says, words running together as he tries to finish the sentence in one breath.

She smiles, "His name is Derek. He works with Jackson. Go talk to him!" She turns back to her conversation with Allison and Stiles takes some deep yoga breaths, trying to work up the courage to go introduce himself. It's not that he's lonely, per se, but occasionally it's hard for him to form... um... romantic relationships with people. But this guy looks as lost as Stiles. Maybe they'd get on well.

"C'mon Stilinski," he mutters to himself, "Let's do this."

He departs his friends and begins the journey into the unknown: approaching people. He walks towards the man, Derek, and when he gets close enough, he lifts his hand in a wave. Derek does not return the gesture. Stiles frowns. Maybe he didn't realize Stiles was waving at him.

"Hey." He says when he's within five feet of Derek. 

Derek doesn't reply.

"You're Derek, right? I'm Stiles, a friend of Lydia's. And technically of Jackson's as well, but he hates me, so maybe, frenemies?" He babbles like a toddler. Uh, he really needs to up his game.

Derek mutters an abrupt, "Hello," still not looking at Stiles.

"Do you, um, wanna dance or something?" Stiles tries again. He had seen antisocial before, but dude, this guy is something else.

"I don't dance." He says gruffly. Stiles feels himself begin to get angry, but works to keep his voice even when he says,

"Okay, then, Logan Lerman."

"What?" Derek asks, eyes still staring ahead.

"Perks of Being a Wallflower?" Stiles says slowly, sarcastically. Surely everyone has seen the film at least?

"I don't know what you are talking about." Derek mutters, still not looking at Stiles.

"Y'know, you could look at me!" Stiles finally erupts.

Derek flushes, not answering.

"I mean, the sunglasses are a bit impractical for inside, but you can still see!" Stiles snaps, trying to hide his embarrassment at being so obviously and painfully rejected.

Derek turns to the sound of Stiles's voice, ears red, his face pointed slightly to the left of where Stiles is, as though he is looking over Stiles's shoulder. Great, he can't even bring himself to look at my face.

Derek pulls off his glasses to reveal eyes cloudy and milky. Stiles gasps.

"D-Derek, I'm so sorry. I had no idea." Stiles blurts, his cheeks feeling as if they had caught on fire.

"No shit."

"Look, see here. Oh wait! I didn't mean that! I meant, can you not see that I'm sorry? That's right, you can't... I'm so sorry, I'll shut up. I'm an awful person." Stiles groans, rubbing his temples.

Derek's mouth twitches. He's going to yell at Stiles. Oh God. But wait... Is that a smile? That's a fucking smile. Derek quickly hides it, but Stiles saw it. Yes he did. He made Derek smile. 

"So...? Can I buy you a drink?" Stiles gestures towards the bar, before remembering Derek can't see. He drops his hand, hoping no one saw.

Stiles can see Derek deliberating. He places his sunglasses back on his face and grabs the stick beside him, "Sure. Lead the way."

Stiles smiles, happy Derek hasn't held his fuck-up from earlier against him, and-ow! He looks down to see Derek's stick thing moving away from his leg. He looks up to see Derek grinning at him.

"Asshole..." He mutters, grabbing Derek's hand to lead him towards the bar. He helps Derek onto a barstool and holds up two fingers to the barman.

"So." He says to Derek, grabbing his beer and handing Derek his.

"So." Derek replies.

"Aren't you full of conversation." Stiles drawls, illiciting another chuckle from Derek.

"What do you want to talk about." Derek asks, his gaze a few inches to the right of Stiles's face.

"You. Tell me about yourself." Stiles leans closer to Derek, telling himself it's because he wants to hear Derek's reply. That is totally his reason. Totally.

"Mmm," he hums, "Not much to tell."

"Oh sure, attractive guy like you, must have some kind of story." Stiles says as he starts on his second pint.

"Well, maybe we could go someplace quieter and I could tell you." Derek smirks.

And so they go. And Stiles gets a little drunk. And Derek is nice. And not to many blind puns are made. And next thing you know Stiles is kissing Derek. And now they're upstairs and Stiles doesn't even care that he generally isn't much one for casual sex. Wait. Hold up. 

Stiles pulls back from Derek's lips, interrupted by a thought.

"I've..." He giggles nervously, stuffing his feet on the floor, "Never done this before."

Derek's fingers search for Stiles in front of him, locating his right shoulder, and climbing up to the side of his neck and resting over where Stiles's pulse flutters a whole lot less steady than usual. He drops his head to where his hand rests on Stiles's neck, pressing his lips over where his pulse pounds, kissing gently before opening his lips and softly licking the spot. He pulls back, exhaling on the now damp spot, causing goose flesh to erupt on Stiles's skin.

"Good thing I have." Derek growls, fingers deftly untucking Stiles's shirt from his pants, proceeding to glide up Stiles's back, calloused hands on smooth skin. All the while, his soft lips and coarse stubble move over Stiles's neck.

Stiles's fingers weave through Derek's dark hair and he tries to contain his breathy moans. Somehow, Derek had ended up pinning Stiles to the door with his hips, sucking lightly on Stiles's earlobe.

"You... You... sure know wha- oh! What you are doin-uh." Stiles stutters as Derek strips off his shirt and lowers his lips to his chest, slowly kissing down to Stiles's nipple.

"Duh-Derek," Stiles moans, his breathing growing erratic as Derek's tongue glides over his nipple, nipping gently before straightening up, once more a few inches taller than Stiles.

Stiles tilts his head up and presses his lips to Derek's, shaking fingers fumbling at Derek's shirt buttons. He moves up on his toes, pressing deeper into the kiss. Derek groans, his hands reaching down to Stiles's thighs, lifting him up and encouraging Stiles's legs to wrap around his hips.

"I think we should relocate to the bed." Stiles gasped as Derek's hands drop to his belt. Derek chuckles.

"I would carry you there right now, but, ah, well." He points to his eyes.

Stiles knots his fingers through Derek's hair and pulls his head down slightly. He drops a kiss to each of Derek's eyelids and the dark-haired man closes his eyes involuntarily, sighing.

"Start walking. I'll be your guide dog." Stiles whispers, smirking.

"Oh you'll be my dog alright." Derek mutters as his grip on Stiles tightens. He turns around so his back is to the door. "Lead the way, Rover."

"Okay. Two, uh, Derek! Stop! I can't concentrate when you do that!" He complains as Derek's lips move along his collarbone.

"Try harder, Scooby." He says, his words muffled against Stiles's shoulder.

"Okay. Uh, eleven o'clock. Or. Wait, have you ever seen a clock? Wait. Is that blind-ist. Is that a thing? I'm sorry. Oh my God!" He groans when Derek's teeth snap at his jawline. Derek turns slightly to his left. Apparently he is aware of how to tell the time, quite impressive for a blind guy. Stiles knows several seeing people who can't read a clock.

"Now four steps forw-ah!" He breaks off with a yelp as Derek trips over Stiles's discarded shirt and the two land in a heap on the floor.

"Hmm... I quite like this position..." Derek mutters. Stiles supposes it is quite a nice place to be situated in, Derek between his thighs, their lips locked together.

Derek continues to kiss him as they both kick off their shoes. The next few minutes are a blur of flying clothes and sloppy kisses. Somehow they end up with Stiles's mouth hovering above Derek's dick, both of them completely naked on the wooden floor.

"Stiles..." Derek groans as Stiles presses a gentle kiss to the tip before opening his mouth to swallow the head. His tongue swirls around and he releases Derek from his mouth to lick from his balls up, taking care to apply pressure to one vein that is literally throbbing.

Derek is shuddering with the effort it takes to restrain himself from bucking his hips towards Stiles's mouth. Stiles presses a kiss to the inside of Derek's thigh before taking him into his mouth once more. He takes Derek as deep as he can, ignoring the gag reflex.

"Stiles... I'm... I need to..." He gasps.

Stiles returns his head level with Derek's, licking his lips with a satisfied smirk on his face. Derek flips him onto his back, offering Stiles two fingers. Stiles sucks on the fingers, not even trying to act remotely chaste anymore. Derek pulls his fingers out, and then his index finger is inside Stiles, and oh! Now there are two, and Stiles's hands are clawing at the floor because, oh, that's it, that's the spot! And Derek knows exactly what he is doing, crooking his fingers and scissoring and now there's a burn in Stiles's stomach and-

"Derek. Get the fuck in me now!" He cries. His eyes are tight shut: neither of them can see now. Derek flips him back onto his back and now he can feel Derek nudging at his opening and suddenly he's inside him. Stiles's ankles latch around Derek's neck and his head falls back as Derek's lips traverse over his neck.

The moans falling from Derek's lips are sinful and he's hitting Stikes's prostate with each thrust. Stiles is writhing and the noises escaping his mouth would be embarrassing if he cared about anything else right now other than furthering the pleasure. Derek's movements are becoming erratic and-and-and-

"Derek I'm going..." He moans, trying to hold on longer.

"Now, Stiles." Derek growls and Stiles clenches around him as heat fills him. He sees stars and he's wondering if maybe he should be worried. When his head finally stops spinning (that was intense) he opens his eyes to see Derek smiling sleepily above him. Derek pulls out and rolls them over so Stiles is lying on his chest.

"I'm still seeing stars." Stiles whispers.

"If I could see, I'd only be seeing a single star." Derek mutters back, his breathing growing slow and his muscles relaxing.

Stiles blushes, smiling as he follows Derek to sleep.

When he wakes up in the morning his neck is stiff and he's cold, but he smiles at the memory of last night.

"Hey." Derek murmurs when he notices the change in Stiles's breathing.

"Hey." Stiles grins.

He moves off Derek, grimacing at the sticky feeling of sweat and cum on his skin, "I need a shower."

"I'll join you." Derek says, "But would you mind helping me in there?"

Stiles leads him by the hand to the bathroom, just about catching him as he trips over one of their shoes. Stiles laughs.

"This is the most dysfunctional relationship I've ever been in."

"We're in a relationship?" Derek asks.

"I don't know, are we?" Stiles smirks.

Derek groans, "We're screwed."

"What are you talking about? We're fucking fabulous!" Stiles thrills.

"Yeah, we're one of those things." Derek says wryly.

After a very long shower, the pair depart for breakfast. Entering the dining room Stiles smiles at the look of shock present on the faces of all his friends. When Derek's cab arrives he turns to Stiles's general direction.

"When can I see you again?" He queries.

"Never." Stiles replies. Derek's face falls.

"Oh. Well, I'll-"

"Fool! I was making a joke about your eyes!" Stiles laughs, shoving Derek playfully.

"Bastard." Derek growls, but kisses Stiles on the cheek just before he slips into the cab.

Stiles watches the car drive out of sight, opening Derek's profile on his phone, tapping out a quick text. --tomorrow good for you?--

He laughs when the reply comes through, Derek having informed him earlier about the feature on his phone that allowed his texts to be read aloud to him and the microphone that translated his voice to a text, so he knew the message would have been received.

\--fucking fabulous--


End file.
